


Cheers

by KORsimp



Series: Basically you bang your way through the KOR and Kylo (as different Y/ns) [4]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I love enemies to lovers-fight me, More Knights of Ren fluff, Sassy Reader, Tagging as I go, Vicrul is lowkey a sweetheart, You get with Vicrul, sex eventually; i'll lyk when, slow burn-kind of, yes; all these start out the same, you're a bartender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27010819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KORsimp/pseuds/KORsimp
Summary: Life as a bartender in the First Order sucks. Unfortunately, a visit from a Knight of Ren makes it worse.
Relationships: Knights of Ren/You, Vicrul (Star Wars)/Reader
Series: Basically you bang your way through the KOR and Kylo (as different Y/ns) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963684
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	Cheers

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! Here's the first chapter for Vicrul's fic! I hope you all enjoy :) Chapters will probably be short because I have no idea where all of these are going but there's going to be plenty of smut and KOR fluff.
> 
> If you haven't read Not So Sterile yet, you don't really need to. If you did, this fic starts right after the scene where Y/N in that book kinda hooks up with Vicrul, then Kylo comes and cockblocks (I kind of explain that here)
> 
> So yeah, this is a series with a fic for each Knight of Ren (and 2 for Kylo), and they're all reader inserts, but you're different characters in each one. They kind of overlap.
> 
> Please lmk what you all think and what you would like to see in this (ik Vicrul was a fan favorite in Not So Sterile)
> 
> Also!! Updates on this will be SLOW because I'm writing a fic for each knight, one for Kylo, and other random reylo fics rn, so please bear with me. The good thing about that though is that I'll be VERY receptive to feedback and suggestions on what kind of scenes you all would like to see.
> 
> Some fic authors have cast their own Knights of Ren (which is totally fine!!) But I think the men they actually cast in the movie were super hot, so I just use them. Vicrul is played by Anton Simpson Tidy. I've included pictures of him that I imagine him as when I'm writing, but in case you all want to imagine your own, I'll be keeping physical descriptions ambiguous. Also, I use descriptions of each of the Knights from the Star Wars websites when writing the personalities of each of them, and how I think those would fit into a sexual/romantic relationship.

Kylo Ren was an asshole.

That’s all that was going through Vicrul’s mind as he made his way to the main bar. The Knights of Ren had their own personal bar in their lounge, but he couldn’t stand to be in there, where Kylo could be. Where each of his brothers would be able to feel like anger and rejection and… hurt. If he stayed any longer, he was going to try to punch Ren. Kylo had always beaten him one on one, but Vicrul was definitely mad enough to do it anyway.

And he’d likely regret it.

He didn’t notice the people who passed him in the hallway, scurrying away from him in fear. They didn’t have to be Force sensitive to know he was dangerous. And that it was a good idea to stay away from him.

“Fucking asshole,” he muttered into his mask, still ranting to himself about the Commander of the First Order. “Always gets everything he fucking wants.”

He had been crushing on the Doctor since she waltzed into their training arena a few months ago and started barking orders at everyone. It was infuriating, but damn, she was fucking hot when she did it.

But then she started coming into work with hickies from none other than Kylo Ren. She tried to hide them, but no makeup could cover the marks on her. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t ignore the way her and Kylo’s Force signatures yearned for the other.

Kylo could read minds. He knew how Vicrul felt about her. Kylo hardly even liked her—all they did was fight—but he’d gone for her anyway.

Vicrul watched from the sidelines, rolling in jealousy, but it wasn’t any of his business. She’d made her choice. But it was misery. He couldn’t even tell himself ‘leave her alone, she’s happy with him,’ because she wasn’t. All they did was fight and fuck and repeat.

And then finally—FINALLY—she’d come to him, and it was a dream come true. He’d gotten to watch her face as she fell apart in his fingers, and gods, she was gorgeous when she came, and before he could finish and tell her how he felt, Kylo busted in and took her from him.

Unconsciously, Vicrul rubbed at his throat. Kylo had Force choked him before, but never as hard as when he saw Vicrul with the doctor. He couldn’t feel it anymore, but he was so pissed about him taking her, embarrassing him in front of her, and then fucking Force choking him! That was meant for their enemies (and Hux when Kylo was annoyed, which was hilarious). The fact that Kylo had done it to him over a woman was just another slap in the face.

He stormed into the public bar (ew), needing to get away from Kylo and definitely needing a drink. They would forgive each other eventually—probably—but right now, Vicrul needed space. And he needed a fucking drink.

When the other bar goers saw him, they were terrified. All it took was one look through his mask to have them all scrambling out of there. He huffed. Good. Making his way over to the bar, he plopped down in one of the seats that was almost too small for him.

“Something strong, sweetheart,” he said to you, voice low through his mask. You were frozen, a half dry shot glass still in your hand. Since the second he stormed into the bar, all you could do was watch his strong strides towards you and how all your customers—who hadn’t paid their bills—ran terrified.

You’d heard stories of the Knights of Ren but had never seen one in person. He was wearing a tacky mask and an excessive amount of black clothing, and he was… Not as terrifying as expected.

You glared at him, annoyed and upset. Who the hell did he think he was?

“I hope you’re planning on paying me for all the tipping customers you scared away,” you said, flipping a bar towel over your shoulder. You’d already had a terrible week, barely making any money, and now this? Just fucking perfect.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. You were fuming but weren’t going to let him see that. What an ass. He reached over the table and swiped an opened bottle, and poured it into an empty glass. He filled it to the brim.

“Hey!” you yelled leaning over to try to grab it from him. You tugged the bottle, but he didn’t budge. “That stuff’s expensive, you fucking buckethead!”

He huffed, unamused. “Buckethead. Cute.” He obviously was used to doing whatever he wanted. And based on how everyone ran from the mere sight of him, you could see why.

You were seething. “You better be paying for that,” you gritted, hand still on the bottle, but not tugging.

You could feel him rolling his eyes under that stupid mask. “I’m not in the mood to fight with the help.”

Jaw agape, you stared up at him. He comes into your bar, scares away ten open tabs, starts stealing liquor, and insults you? Giving up on the bottle, you drew your hand back to punch him in the face… well mask. It was a great swing—you’d had plenty of practice on rowdy First Order assholes—but an inch away from his mask, his hand gripped your wrist, stopping the assault. You yelped, trying to pull your arm away, but he was too strong.

“Let me go, you ass!” you yelled, still struggling and pulling back with all your weight.

He chuckled from under his mask. “Ass? I just stopped you from breaking your hand on my mask. Would you have preferred me to let you do it?”

“I’d prefer you to take it off so I can try again!” you told him. You tugged your arm away, and this time he let you go, sending you flying back, narrowly avoiding falling on your ass. Your cheeks flamed.

“What’s the big deal?” he asked, motioning towards the glass he’d poured for himself. 

“The big deal?” You scoffed in disbelief. Was he really that obtuse? Apparently, the answer was yes because he lifted his mask, but only enough to down his whole drink before covering his face again. “All you military men suck.” You’d, unfortunately, had plenty of experience with them. Generals, Captains, basically anyone with a little bit of power was a complete and total asshole. And apparently, the Knights of Ren were no exception. “You come in here, harassing people-”

“Harassing people?” he cut you off. “You swung at me.”

“-like you fucking own the place!”

He poured himself another round while your fingers gripped the counter so hard your knuckles turned white. When his hands went up to his mask this time, you held your breath. He clicked a couple of latches and put it on the bar table with a ‘thump’.

He was, unfortunately, super-hot.

He had gorgeous, prominent features and a jawline that could cut steel. His facial hair was short and unruly in a way that showed he was a man, but also had a wild side—not that you needed proof. He was young, and tall, and dark, and sexy, and, quite frankly, way more attractive than someone as rude as him deserved to be. And he gave you a smirk that, if you weren’t so pissed, would have had you weak in the knees.

You grinned up at him. “Wanna get out of here?”

His suave charade fell briefly, and he tried to recover from his shock. He stood, a little too quickly. “Yes,” he said, voice high. He cleared his throat, trying again, this time much lower and casual. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. He down the drink he poured himself and grabbed his mask. You followed him to the door. You held it open for him, and he walked through. When you didn’t follow, he turned.

Hands on either side of the door frame, he stared down at you, the smell of whisky tickling your nose. You tried not to flinch.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? You nervous?” he grinned.

“What’s your name?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him.

“Vicrul.” He cocked his head. “What’s yours?”

You smiled nastily up at him. “Doesn’t matter, Vicrul. I just needed to know who to file my harassment claim against,” you said before slamming the door in his face.


End file.
